


Blood and roses

by EdgarAllenPosies, Eponine_Thenardibae



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, I'm making the thenardiers sound so northern english lmao, Modern AU, Multi, Patron-Minette - Freeform, alcohol cw, drugs cw, injury cw, patron Minette - Freeform, possible trigger warnings, there will be angst, we're making this up as we go alone I'll add tags as needed, weapons (knives ect) cw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPosies/pseuds/EdgarAllenPosies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eponine_Thenardibae/pseuds/Eponine_Thenardibae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Montparnasse runs away from home and moves in with a rather questionable family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Montparnasse moves in with the Thenardiers

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask us where this is going because we seriously don't know. This whole thing is an RP that we're doing so it could end up being a shocking amount of chapters long and we're making everything up as we go along. That means that based on what goes on in the newest chapter, trigger or content warnings might need to be added so if you're going to follow our trash fanfic then please please please check if anything has changed in the tags before you read it.
> 
> RE Monts pronouns: They switch between "He" and "They" so basically don't leave comments saying I made a mistake or pointing it out because it's ok, I know.

Montparnasse was not overly sure how long they had been on the train. The machine chugged along the track at what felt like both light speed and a snails pace simultaneously. He had started to feel like a lot of weight was being lifted off his shoulders with each thud of the train's wheels against the half-modern, half-ancient tracks that led the way into Paris.

Despite the feeling of relief, on arrival into Paris, Montparnasse felt his heart sink as he had to face the large, smoky abyss of the city. For a minute, they wondered if it was worth hiding somewhere on the train and going straight back to where they had come from, but as the rain drizzled over their face, and the train pulled out of the crowded station, they realized it was an impossibility. 

Asking around for a place to live was difficult in any city. Nowadays cities were not for living. They were for learning or enjoying yourself. A few people mistook him to be a student and began telling him about student accommodation, until he eventually wandered into a less fashionable part of the city and asked there, most people shrugged at them or told them to piss off, but eventually someone told them about the home of a family called the Thenardiers and mumbled an address. Feeling like his feet were bleeding after a very long day of walking, Montparnasse made his way towards the aforementioned area of Paris. Eventually finding himself in the area he’d been directed, he obtained a feeling akin to being directed into the center of hell. 

Once he had arrived at the place he knocked on the door, hurting their knuckles because of the chipped paint and splinters that decorated the front of the door. They gave the impression that no one lived there at all. This was further accented by the large graffiti stain that was smattered across the door. 

It looked so messy, in fact, that Montparnasse was starting to wonder if he had knocked at the right house at all until a woman in a vivid pink leopard print jacket and a skin tight, fluorescent orange mini dress opened the door. “What do you want?” She snapped. 

Her sudden tone shocked him. He was sure that it wasn’t completely normal to address people knocking at your door with such levels of contempt and that this woman seemed to hold. However, the need to be composed found itself within Montparnasse and they spoke up. “Is this the Thenardier residence?” He pondered aloud.

A scowl fell across the woman’s already sour looking face. “Look, if you've come from the coppers, we've been searched this morning and you found nothing, so bugger off!” She spat, her eyes looking them over as she protectively stood in the doorway, blocking the way in. 

They thought that this new place they had escaped to seemed awfully like the one they were running from, and although nothing could make them homesick, it was still not the first time they had wondered if the choice they made had been the right one. However, they also knew that the police could be incredibly insistent, especially in neighborhoods like these, and they could understand and appreciate that possibly, these people were completely normal, law abiding people who just happened to be in a bad situation. “I'm not the police, I'm here about renting a room.” They stated matter-of-factly. 

Her manner changed all of a sudden, she had gone from threatening, and looking like she was ready to fight him at a seconds notice, to warm and kind looking. However, there was still something a little bit off about her, and it wasn’t just the fact she was almost towering over him. “Oh...Oh! well then come in lovey! Make yourself at home!” She moved herself out of the way and guided Montparnasse into the main room, pushing them a little bit. 

“Could I see the room first?” He questioned. While very aware that he couldn’t afford anything else, he also knew that it was entirely possible it could be worse. Despite his previous sentiments towards the chance they were just in a bad situation, he realized he could be walking into more trouble than he had just left, and that these people could actually be more malicious than anyone else he had ever come across. Overall Montparnasse hoped for a nice middle ground. 

The woman smiled, but she didn’t look happy, in fact, she looked rather put out at what she perceived to be a rejection of her hospitality. “Sure!” She tried her best to look like she didn’t want to murder him, failing just mildly. “Come on, it's just up the stairs and to the left. If you see any kids around just ignore them because I can't guarantee they're mine.” She shrugged casually, strutting up a narrow staircase, tripping on her unnecessarily high platforms as she clattered up the stairs while trying her best not to step on the kids who were running around the house like it was a playground. Montparnasse followed, unaware that behind a bedroom door in the upstairs section of the house, was a girl sat intently listening to their words. 

After walking up the stairs, they ended up in a room that was somehow worse than everywhere else in the house. It was a small room, with a bed at an awkward angle in the middle of the bare floorboards. There were a few pieces of furniture, such as a wardrobe, a chair, an old desk and a large cracked mirror leaning against a wall. All of these looked like they had taken a beating over the years, all having chips or stains. The wardrobe in particular had enough chips to look like it’d had several knives thrown at it over time, and one hole in the panel looked suspiciously like a gunshot. 

Next to the bed was a pile of clear broken glass that spread over the floor like a deadly fall of snow, with snowflakes ready to hit your feet and pierce them like a malicious icicle. The wintery look was accented, by a large portion of the wallpaper peeling off and drooping like a frozen flower.

“...It will do.” Montparnasse muttered. The appearance of the room was hideous to him or any other sober eye that looked upon it. It was not possible to look classy, elegant or beautiful in this room. Despite his disgust, with his current predicament he didn’t really have an option other than to take it.

With her hands on her hips, the woman breathed out loudly. Possibly from walking up the stairs in her ludicrously high heels.”Lovely! My husband takes care of rent and stuff, but he's not in at the moment fortunately. Now, we only have one main rule, be quiet, especially if you're having sex. We've had trouble with that before in here.” Montparnasse was starting to think that this was a person who shrugged off the most unconventional things someone could say as if they were nothing, and he was wondering if she could manage to say anything stranger. “Sorry about the mess by the way, this used to be my daughters room. Ey, you could have sex with her if you want, apparently everyone else has. just be quiet about it alright?” Question answered. 

“....Right.” They drawled out slowly, slightly taken aback by the woman's rather brazen choice of words and obvious contempt for her daughter, which she seemed more then happy to share with random strangers who found their way into her home. “I'm Montparnasse, by the way.” he offered, as something to say.

“Lovely, I'm just Madame Thenardier, haven’t used my first name in years and we're keeping it that way.” It seemed that Madam Thenardier, had a hobby of smiling in a slightly threatening way through her teeth. Until she twisted her face into a genuine scowl and snapped “Steal anything, and I'll make sure you regret it, alright? I'll leave you to it” She turned on her pointed heel and left him by himself in the room with the door open.

It struck him like a hot iron that it was the first time he had been alone since he left. He let his shoulders droop in a way that he wouldn’t be seen dead doing usually, but for a split second as they looked around in despair, being pretty was not the first thing on their mind. He was left to wonder how he got there, why he had to be there and mostly just to panic. Eventually he calmed himself down and began to unpack. To find a distraction, they wondered instead how fabric could be made as bright as it had looked on Madame Thenardiers dress. 

As they were thinking this, without them noticing, another woman who was barely more then a girl slipped out of her hiding place and floated towards the open doorway. She leaned on the door frame and cleared her throat, making Montparnasse turn and face her. “Hey there monsieur, what's new with you?” She asked, in a strange voice that seemed to be half flirtation, half threat. 

It was observed that she looked a lot like the woman who had let him in. However, Her hair was not brushed, washed or styled. In fact it looked as if the only treatment it had received in weeks was a particularly bad dye job in an attempt to make it blonde. She was also much shorter, and not just because her shoes were flat and thin. Her clothes looked out of place on her small frame, her shirt obviously meant for someone larger. It was man's shirt that was covered in rips and stains. It would have looked like she was wearing the shirt of a lover if it were not in such a state. The shirt was awkwardly attached to her waist with a large belt and was also causing her long brown skirt to hitch up, in an effort for it not to touch the floor or trail along like a disappointed cat's tail. 

Montparnasse was momentarily startled but regained composure quickly. He was certainly more attracted to her then he had been to anyone else he had seen in the house, but they were very appreciative of even a small amount of prettiness (and with the girl, it really was only a small amount) and so far the only people had really seen were children and a middle aged woman dressing like she was on the disney channel. “Living here would be the latest development, you are?” They said in a snarky fashion.

The girl shrugged in a similar fashion that the other woman had done. “Éponine. I live here as well, that's my mother that let you in. This used to be my room you know.” That explained why she seemed so similar to the woman, she was in fact the same daughter she had made the snide remark about earlier. “Bit shit isn’t it?” She injected, a small laugh finding its way in with the conversation. 

He knew it was normal to distrust her. He didn’t really trust anyone in his current situation and he knew trusting the wrong person could be a fatal mistake. However, she did strike them as the type of person they would find rather funny and based on the last ten seconds they had been talking, he thought that she might even become a good drinking partner if given some time. Most of this in his mind was sidetracked by how they had never felt temptation so strong to dress someone up and give them a very thorough makeover. “Just a tad.” They said sarcastically.

As they turned to place something in the wardrobe, be noticed there was a dirty cardigan hanging on it. It was the color of a particularly unattractive lake weed and it was spotted with bits of dried mud and what looked like blood. “This yours?” He questioned. Holding it up at a distance and examining it.

She turned a deep shade of red and shook her head. “I'm not sure. It's probably my sisters.” She said quickly, waving it off as they placed it on the broken old table that was cluttering up the room still. Montparnasse turned their back to her and continued to unpack, hoping she would see this as her cue to leave. She didn’t. 

She observed that the central part of the room was the bed and decided that was the best place to go and sit as if it was still her room and Montparnasse was the one who had come in uninvited. “So, where you from?” She asked, flipping her hair and silently judging him. Very obviously looking him up and down as she spoke. 

Montparnasse felt himself grow stiffer and he subconsciously closed himself off which was evidence enough for Éponine that she had hit a nerve. “Why do you need to know?” They calmly asked, careful not to snap or give her a reason to fight him about it. Not that she needed a reason 

Éponine scowled and glared at them angrily “I'm just asking a question, don't bite my head off, jesus christ.” She spat defensively, perhaps being a little ruder than was really needed in the situation and feeling very put out that she didn’t get the answer she wanted, which would be any answer really. 

They gritted their teeth and felt themselves internally sigh in frustration. They were not ready to deal with such an aggressive reaction the second they didn’t tell her exactly what she wanted to know. Especially as they would be living together now “I didn’t” They hissed, careful not to sound too defensive.“I was also just “asking a question”” They said calmly, hoping this would make her back off.

Luckily, she did. However she made sure she pouted like a annoyed child and crossed her arms “I’m just trying to make conversation.” She simmered down a little, knowing she wouldn’t get any answers if she continued to act in this manner. She would however, force him to pay attention to her by finding her way into his personal space, making the task of unpacking slightly more difficult for him.

They raised an eyebrow at her and tried to make it obvious that they wanted her to leave without having to bluntly tell her to fuck off. All Montparnasse wanted was a few seconds of silence to think about their life and their choices and just be alone with their thoughts longer than five seconds without another woman bursting into conversation with him and doing her best to annoy or bother him. “Well don't ask that one, i'm not a sharer.” They added curtly. 

Her eyes rolled and she crossed her legs to match her already crossed arms, making the utmost effort to look as closed off as she could “Fine.” She said in a tone that indicated that she didn’t think it was fine at all. “You’re a bit miserable, arn’t ya?” She asked bluntly as Montparnasse felt himself internally sigh again.

“Yes” 

“Any reason?” 

“None you need to hear about.” He continued to unpack, praying she would be bored and leave. She especially made it difficult to unpack as he didn’t want her to see the more feminine items of clothing in his luggage, he didn’t know it it was the type of household that accepted that type of thing and he could not afford to be thrown out.

She sighed dramatically, unfolding her arms and legs and finding her way even closer to where made it most difficult for them to continue their task, simply for the hell of it. Besides, she found she rather enjoyed the pained expression that kept falling across their face when she moved, spoke, or simply existed in the same area as them. She admired said face she they stepped around, her fluidly, and doing pretty well to avoid her despite her best effort to make it impossible for them. “What’s your name?” 

“Montparnasse.”


	2. Montparnasse starts to wish he hadn't moved in with the Thenardier's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo, well this took like a month, but hopefully the next one shouldn't take as long, we're trying our best

After their meeting the day before, in which Éponine basically turned up and stayed there just to annoy the new person in her household, Naturally, she had decided she wanted to be Montparnasse’s best friend. And the best way to obtain friendship was to spend time with people. However, despite her wanting for friendship with this new person, she wasn’t ready to be nice to him and still found his annoyed expression rather endearing. 

She approached his door and she knocked on it. She had been often told her knock was annoying and she played on this to get what she wanted, occasionally using it around her parents or her sister to drive them into doing what she wanted. She was just hoping it would work on the beautiful stranger that had moved into her old room.

The door was not opened to her, which she found rather rude. Instead she heard a voice call out 

“What?” 

She scowled to herself for a second before pushing open the door to see Montparnasse staring out the window at the dismal view of graffiti, used drug wraps and the occasional depressed soul walking down the street, looking like they would rather be literally anywhere in the world but there. 

“Come to this meeting with me?” She whined. Her tone was one that suggested they had known each other a lot longer than a day. It was the type of tone that one would have used with a family member, or close friend when asking for something. 

They had literally no idea why she would even ask. It seemed odd to them that she would want to spend time with them, especially after she spent a large portion of her time making it seem like she didn’t like them very much, if even at all. “No.” he uttered firmly. 

This was actually the reaction that Éponine wanted because it gave her the opportunity to hold up the pretty knife that she had stolen from his luggage the day before while he was not looking. It was long and thin with a fine blade that struck the sunlight in a beguiling manner. The handle was the perfect length for gripping it and it was decorated with swirls that had been carved intricately into the matte steel that made the bottom half of the weapon. “Guess you won’t be getting this back then.” She sang like a child in a playground, raising her eyebrow at him.

Confusion washed over them like a wave of watercolor paints washing over a canvas. They had no idea when or how she could have taken it. They had not left their possessions out of sight once, and it was concluded that she must have taken it while in their room the previous day. They also suddenly felt worry that she had seen other things in his luggage. Things that he would rather she didn’t. “What the fuck is your problem?” They barked, Standing up to face her. There must have been something that made her so awfully antagonistic towards them, Montparnasse thought that she must have some problem with him, or at least some problem in general to purposely try and drive them to the point of frustration on what seemed like it was going to be a pretty regular basis. 

Éponine grinned. Her eyes gleamed as she received the exact reaction she had hoped for. “How long have you got? I’m sure I have a list somewhere.” She stated dramatically. “Anyway, I just don't want to go on my own, come on it'll be fun. Some Blond kid talks about equality and shit. “ It was very obvious that she couldn’t give two shits about the blond kid who talked about equality. She shrugged and seemed more interested in playing with the knife in her hands. 

A surging swell of irritation rose up inside him “I don’t give a fuck. Give me the knife Éponine.” Montparnasse could not understand for one second why she was being like that. They hadn’t done anything to hurt or irritate her, but she seemed hell bent on annoying them. They also wondered why she seemed so determined to go to this meeting anyway. She hardly looked like the dashing young student who tended to attend events like that. 

Doing her best to look as threatening as possible, she stood up tall as she could for someone who was only 5’1 and pointed the knife in their direction. “Or what?” She snapped. “I’m the one with the knife in this situation.” Despite trying to sound murderous she sounded more like the bitchy character in a young adult movie. 

The surprise of being threatened by this frankly tiny girl filled them “I’ll just get you back with worse. Hand it over.” If he could avoid it, he would not even think about hurting her since apart from the fact she seemed annoying as the devil’s spawn itself, she hadn’t actually tried anything yet and he wasn’t going to just straight up attack a girl for being annoying. However, she did have a knife, and if she made a move then it was only fair for him to fight back, and he wasn’t about to just let himself get stabbed. 

She pretended to think for a second and then smirked “Nah. If you're not gonna come with me, I get to keep it and it's really pretty.” She moved her gaze back to the knife and hummed, for some reason she expected this to mean they would give in and go with her. It didn’t. 

Despite the fact that Montparnasse could feel the anger starting to build up inside him, they decided the best option was just to steal back the knife when he next had a chance, she couldn’t keep it on her at all times and she would probably get sick of this method of taunting eventually anyway. He tried to slam the door in her face to keep her out, hoping that if she could not find a way to taunt him, she would give up and go away. However, he didn’t count of the fact that she would be leaning at just the wrong angle at just the wrong moment, and the get whacked full force in the face by the sharp edge of the door. 

Éponine jerked backwards and put her hands to the affected areas of her face, which mostly consisted of her nose and her lip. As her hands were occupied in reaching her face, the knife fell from her grip and clattered against the floor. “Ow! Fuck!” She shrieked. 

They rolled their eyes, wondering what dramatic situation could have befallen her in the five seconds she had been out of their sight, and in curiosity, opened the door. They took in the sight of her for a second, realizing what they’d done, but instead of acting in any way concerned or apologetic, they say took the opportunity to snatch the knife from the floor. “So…” Hitting people in the face with doors wasn’t exactly the best idea, and it flew through their mind that they probably should have checked she was ok before picking up the knife. They would still have the opportunity to get the knife back into the room, since she didn’t exactly look ready to attack, and more like an injured child.

She looked at him in shock and hurt. “You slammed the door in my face!” She gasped, as if she was somehow bewildered that if she annoyed someone enough they might retaliate. She was also completely unaware that they hadn't even meant it on purpose. “I can’t believe you slammed a door into my face!” 

If she was so convinced it had been on purpose, Montparnasse could at least use it to their advantage. They hid their slight guilt and straightened up, twirling the knife in their hands because it looked really cool and intimidating at the same time.“You stole from me, you deserved it.” They said firmly. 

The look of utter bewilderment on Éponine’s face was rather comical, with her mouth wide open in surprise and her eyes filled with an intent look of confusion and offense. “I was only messing about, you didn’t have to be such a dick!” She pulled a small compact mirror with several cracks and what looked like a scratched out woman’s name on the lid. Whatever the name had been it had definitely never spelled “Éponine” at any point. She checked her face, dabbing at the affected areas with her hands and wincing with every small push. “That’s gonna bruise, I’m telling my parents!” She cried, hitting her foot on the floor in anger, like a child.

Since meeting Madam Thenardier, Montparnasse was sure that there wasn’t actually that much danger in it for him, since Éponine didn’t seem to have the most loving parents in the world, especially if her father turned out to be anything like his wife. “Okay” He hoped that would make her leave, but she wasn’t done quite yet. 

Éponine knew that there was no way someone would live at that house by choice. If she herself had a choice she would move out the second she was able, and she knew there must be something that was keeping him there. Most likely the rather stupidly cheap rent. She hadn’t ever actually had a landlord, but she imagined that if she had hit his daughter in the face with a door, she wouldn’t expect him to be happy about it, even though consciously she knew neither of her parents would really care, even if he beat her half to death. “Or…” She sang, suddenly aware of the fact she had nothing in her hands to play with anymore. “You could come to the meeting with me.” 

It shocked Montparnasse that she would actually want to attend with him anymore, since he just hit in the face with door, she still wanted him to tag along onto the most boring sounding event ever. “No.” He uttered turning to pack a bag in preparation to go out. 

“Good job it’s summer. Living on the street isn’t as bad in summer. Or is it worse? I can’t remember.” She sucked her teeth in and looked at Montparnasse in a patronizing manner. She knew that would never happen, and she had a feeling he also knew, but that wasn’t going to stop her making an effort. 

Being homeless wasn’t exactly something they were unfamiliar with, hearing her talking about it like that made them think of nothing but that familiarity. “It’s better. Usually less death.” They remembered how cold winters were on the streets and how little food there was, gettting kicked out of shops when you’re only in there to get some heat and doing your absolute best just to get through the night. 

She realized she wasn’t going to get the rise out of them that she wanted, and despite having known them for less than twenty four hours and only have two rather awful conversations. She really didn’t want them to leave. “Please don’t leave.” She said sadly, her voice sounding a bit deeper and less childlike for once. She almost sounded like her mother. 

Her tone made him feel a small pang of pity, but he wouldn’t in a million years let her know that and he would much rather continue acting like the massive dick he knew he could be. “I’m just going to work Ebony.” If mispronouncing her didn’t put her off, they didn’t know what would. 

Her voice returned to it’s original high octave and tone. “My name is Éponine.” She growled through gritted teeth. Her body language also changed, her arms folded and her head leant up high, which anyone who's spent enough time around her knows is a sign she's about to fill up her queen bitch capacity. “You can’t have a job if you live here. Only people no money would live here.” 

Montparnasse huffed quietly her general naivety left them wondering if she’s ever even left her house “I’m new to the job. I haven’t been paid yet.” The packing started to speed up as Montparnasse did his absolute best to get out as quickly as he could, suddenly extremely thankful for the job since it meant he didn’t have to be there all hours of the day with her. 

She left her position skulking around the door frame and entered the room properly entered the room. She leaned against the wall and she raised an eyebrow. Trying to pass herself off as intimidating, or at the least slightly snarky. “Oh yeah, I heard about that opening at fictional jobs and son.” 

Perhaps, he thought, if he was mean to her, she wouldn’t want to be there and would finally leave him alone. It wouldn’t affect him if she went crying to her parents “It’s not fictional, Elise.” They said, trying desperately to think of other names starting with ‘E’ for future use. 

Although previously convinced that they didn’t really had a job and had just tried their best to get away from her, her opinion was jolted when she saw them drop a name tag into their bag. However, she scowled and held her ground. “That's not my fucking name!” She snapped, dangerous close to yelling. 

“That’s real fucking neato, scuse me.”

Despite her best efforts to get in his way, Montparnasse slid past Éponine without even a scrap of effort, leaving her pretty disgruntled. This prompted her to step onto his heel, in an attempt to make him fall. “Oopsie! Sorry.” She giggled, not even making a small effort to try and act like she was at all innocent, and taking pleasure in seeing Montparnasse stumble like a confused deer for a second.

“Why won’t you come to that meeting with me?” She whined, following them into the hallway. It seemed as if she had genuine confusion in her voice. As if she thought that if was not only normal to get as profoundly irritating to people, but still expect them to want to spend time with you and do things for you. 

“I have work, and also I don’t want to.” They stated, Stepping over and around at least five children cluttering up the way to the steps, of whom all seemed oblivious to the conversation that Montparnasse and Éponine were having. Or indeed their presence at all (Which also left them to wonder how many children there were in the house, and if they were all as annoying as Éponine was) 

“What would you do if I followed you to work? That would be pretty annoying ammiright?” Éponine said in a childish and yet somehow also patronizing tone.

“I could get you kicked out.” It was mostly a bluff, since unless she actually did anything to warrant being kicked out, they didn’t have much power in that department. 

She followed him right out the door and right to the front of the house, just in time to see an albeit old, but still rather heavy duty motorbike. Éponine felt her heart skip a beat. She’d never been on a motorbike before and she certainly hadn’t been on one with a person who she would definitely not mind playing a two player version of spin the bottle with. “Come on, if you come with me, I’ll buy you a drink.” She pouted. Hoping that they were at least the type of person to be easily swayed by alcohol. 

For a second, they actually consider her offer. It was possible she might be slightly bearable that way, but their better judgement and their impending day at work make “I’m not missing my first day, Erica.” They said, throwing their leg over the motorcycle and starting the engine. 

Before she could correct him on her name again, he started to drive off down the road leaving her to simply curse under her breath.


End file.
